Yu-Gi-Oh! Fan Fiction ❯ Echo In My Mind ❯ Chapter 6

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ *~

 

“Blah.” = Speaking out loud in Japanese.

 

-“Blah.”- = Speaking out loud in Egyptian Arabic.

 

~“Blah.”~ = Speaking out loud in English.

 

`Blah' = Song lyrics, only sung out loud if quoted as any of the above.

 

~Blah~ = Past conversations (memory).

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ *~

 

`Memories consume
Like opening the wound
I'm picking me apart again'

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ *~

 

“Aside from your anxiety attack, which I'm very glad you decided to inform me of this time, is there anything else you'd like to mention?”

 

It was an invitation to make an appointment sooner than necessary, both knew this quite well, but they were used to the roundabout telephone method they shared along with only the occasional in-person meetings anyway, so the issue was not pressed. Not many doctors would attempt such a laissez-faire treatment of their patients, but not many doctors were quite as supportively calculating either.

 

The puff of breath over the line informed the doctor of impending tears, already poising his pen against the pale yellow pages of his notepad. He knew the boy would try his damn best to keep it together in an effort to avoid a face-to-face appointment, but he also knew the boy well enough to realize he had called back at this time for a reason. Not to say his young patient was predictable, far from it really, but he had emotional cues that anyone who spent a week with him was sure to recognize masterfully.

 

“…I… I had that dream again.”

 

“Was it identical?” Old notes were flipped to for reference, the tip of the pen ready to jot down anything new or different as he softly encouraged and comforted the boy's hushed voice.

 

“Yes. He said the same things. I could nearly see him this time… But I felt him, and… like I was being watched…”

 

A dark brow was raised, the nameless assailant in the boy's dreams had always been less than vivid, but as of late, the fact there was heightening sensory details worried him. What if these weren't just dreams? Repressed memories were a controversial subject to base treatment and therapy on, that and there were too many chances of false accounts being fabricated if he didn't watch his work carefully enough. Leading the boy to believe he remembered something that may or may not have happened would do far more damage than the doctor wanted to imagine. Then again, were he to discover the root of the boy's social fears by sifting through such memories, it was possible he could grant the boy a normal life again.

 

Wait.

 

The doctor's eyes narrowed critically, he was certain he had heard the boy muttering to himself, among the string of whispered terms being a foreign word, one that could very well be a name. Scribbling down what he could sound out, he waited until the boy quieted before speaking. “…Can you repeat that?”

 

“Hm?... Oh.” Obviously flustered, the boy's voice trembled as he tried to force a dismissive chuckle, shaking his head even if the doctor couldn't see such. “I was just thinking of someone…”

 

“Who?”

 

The breath over the line quivered, the rustle of it audible as the doctor put the conversation on speaker so he could flip through a different notepad while waiting for the nervous breathing to subside.

 

“Who were you thinking of?”

 

A sniffle answered, the boy swallowing while shifting and trying to compose himself.

 

“Perhaps I should reschedule your appointment, something sooner, perhaps to-”

 

“No!... I'm sorry, no, that's alright.” Another trembling chuckle and the boy seemed to pull his thoughts together again, voice rising to a normal pitch, even laced with a cheerfulness the doctor wondered at before hearing another male's voice in the background. The boy had a habit of instantly feeling better whenever his lover was in the same room, so the doctor eased back as he knew this phone-session was over.

 

“Are you sure?”

 

“Mmhm! I'm fine, really. You'll be coming next weekend anyway, hai? I just have to go now, we're expecting company.”

 

Sensing no deceptions, or pressure that the boy's lover could have been presenting, the doctor sighed and nodded while reading over the foreign name he had written down. He would ask the boy about this later, for now he figured the youth should be allowed to indulge himself with what little distraction he had. “Enjoy yourselves then, and feel free to call me should you wish to do so.”

 

“I will. Thank you, Kaiba-sensei.”

 

The brunet nearly smirked at the quiet giggling the boy emitted; knowing full well that Bakura was more than likely scowling at the fact the younger was conversing with the blue-eyed psychiatrist. The boy's lover had never approved of Seto being the one assigned to Yami's file. Bakura apparently didn't feel comfortable with the idea of one man hearing all about him from not only his boyfriend, but from his brother as well. Ryou had been assigned as Kaiba's first case; apparently Gozaburo had felt his adopted sun needed a multifaceted challenge if he was going to earn the right to own the family business. Not only was Seto expected to succeed due to his genius, but he was to double his efforts if he wished to truly please his stepfather, and in order to do such Seto was to exceed his elder stepbrother's example. Noa had set the bar and left for America, and while it had taken years of relentless labor, Seto had met and surpassed his stepbrother's model, both siblings upholding the Kaiba name across seas. Having thus proved his ability, Seto had been allowed to choose another patient on his own, taking Yami's case due to the unusual circumstance of the boy's arrival to the Kaiba facility.

 

The only one who had seen Yami's entrance had been the youngest Kaiba sibling. Unfortunately, Mokuba suffered from anterograde amnesia. Having received a damaging concussion in the very car crash that had killed their biological parents, the younger brother could not remember anything from that point on for more than several moments at a time, and even then, anxiety could cripple his memory further. This, and the fact Yami's arrival had been just outside of the security camera's range so there was no other way to know how he had ended up there, had since then led to the scarlet-eyed youth's growing mystery.

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ *~

 

`You all assume
I'm safe here in my room
Unless I try to start again'

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ *~*~*~

 

“Nii-sama!”

 

The cry was nearly frantic, nearly desperate, and had he not had such an acute ear for his brother's exact expression of voice pitch, Seto would have thought his younger sibling was in danger. Instead, when the elder Kaiba had dashed out into the lobby, concerned just the same, he was met with a slightly odd sight, then again, considering he ran this particular establishment of the Kaiba business, it wasn't as odd as it really could have been.

 

“Someone dropped him off, Nii-sama. I didn't get a good look at him though, he was wearing a hooded sweatshirt, and some blond bangs were showing though and he… um…”

 

Mokuba looked more startled than frightened, although concern was clearly evident across the young teen's face as he blinked widely between his approaching brother and the limp form in his arms, face crunching up as he fought to retain what little he had seen before it disappeared from his mind for good. Watching Mokuba struggle with his thoughts upon stopping at the younger's side, Seto was quick to inspect the battered mess his brother was holding.

 

“I saw part of his arms, he had the same tan… and… gold bands? Oh God, I'm sorry, Nii-sama, I can't… All he said was `I'll come back for him' before he just left… and… I…”

 

“It's alright, Mokuba. Get the door while I take him inside.”

 

The boy in question was indeed tanned with an awkward array of tricolor hair, bruises and dirty bandages were scattered unevenly across the slender body, and when Seto shifted the injured youth into his own arms to carry him within the establishment, a vibrant slit of scarlet showed beneath gold-feathered lashes as the exceptionally light boy whimpered and peeked out from under them dizzily. There was helplessness behind those eyes, something shattered and longing to be pieced back together as carefully as could be willingly provided, but there was also a rush of panic. Tears all too quickly began to pool and spill over puffy eyelids, fingers desperately digging into Seto's arms while the boy paled and trembled in heightening terror.

 

-“No… I'm not supposed to… Inside! Get me inside! Please? B-before he…”-

 

The language was foreign and half lost behind coughed out sobs, but between the scarlet-eyed boy's frantic squirming and gesturing, Seto managed to decipher that the youth in his arms wished to go indoors, not that there was anywhere else they'd allow him to go. With the help of Mokuba and other staff members on hand, the anxious boy was sedated, admitted, and placed within a safe room, padded wholly with white cushioning that the youth nearly disappeared against after he was bathed, re-bandaged, and dressed in a white medical gown, round the clock supervision in place by Seto's orders. He didn't really need such attention, both Kaiba brothers were well aware of such considering the variety of other patients they needed to watch and take care of, but they had little choice at first.

 

The foreign boy didn't speak after his initial outburst, making him hard to diagnose or help, and being committed under a number rather than a name they could not coax out of him didn't help matters either as he was filed away and lost among the hundreds of other patients the ward needed to care for. Seto did manage to steal time away to personally check up on him though, speaking softly to the confused boy as he promised to help him once he figured out what was -really- wrong with him. Not that the scarlet-eyed boy's symptoms weren't severe enough to diagnose or keep him there, but even with everything they were able to chart on him, the boy's symptoms simply did not truly exist.

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ *~

`I don't know what's worth fighting for
Or why I have to scream
But now I have some clarity
To show you what I mean
I don't know how I got this way
I'll never be alright
So, I'm breaking the habit
Tonight'

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ *~

 

Snapped out of his thoughts by the sound of giggles, the young psychiatrist broke from his course of memories to focus on his hanging conversation with the boy. “You're welcome, Yami. I'll see you next week then. Good-bye.”

 

“Bye!”

 

The boy hadn't even noticed the extended pause as he chirped his well wishes for the doctor and hung up; leaving Kaiba to faintly shake his head at the joyous giggles that were more than likely the result of something Bakura was responsible for. Pressing a button to disable the speaker, and hang up as well, Seto sat there in brooding silence for several minutes as he read over the foreign name again. He wasn't even sure he had written it down correctly, Seto only had the name spelled out as he heard it pronounced, and there was still the chance this wasn't a name at all.

 

Yami was the most complicated puzzle he had ever needed to solve, and while Seto enjoyed such challenging work, he was afraid his attention for other patients would suffer if he didn't figure out the boy's true issues soon. Skimming over notes he had read a million times over, his blue eyes narrowed at the obvious signs the boy expressed that pointed toward a variety of possible disorders, clear cut paths he could trail and in the end positively identify a condition, then helping Yami live more stably by prescribing proper medication. While any less qualified professional would have been quick to follow a path and solidly name what Yami suffered from, Kaiba refused to fall into such a trap.

 

He had figured it out within the same day the boy had arrived, and he still found it to be true.

 

The symptoms weren't real.

 

For one reason or another, Yami was faking it all, the agoraphobic disposition, anxiety attacks, and easily shaken emotions were nothing more than a façade the boy was masterfully presenting. Not to say the youth was purposefully trying to trick them, because even though the act was calculated and methodically pieced together, it was clear Yami didn't even realize there was nothing wrong with himself. Instead, the youth believed Kaiba was helping him, not only with thorough appointments and weekly checkups, but by prescribing medication to keep Yami calm, pills that were in reality nothing more than a colorful assortment of placebos.

 

Seto had long ago suspected the boy had been coached into acting like this. An effort to cover up abuse by making Yami believe something was wrong with himself, enforcing any number of punishments for his deficiency, thus giving his abuser easy gain of manipulative power over the boy. While all he had to pursue such an idea was the youth's recurring dream, which was the only thing Seto wholly believed to be authentic, Kaiba was careful not to jump to conclusions that could jade him from further clues the boy may let slip, especially considering that Yami's possible abuser could have been the very one to have dropped him off. Someone only the boy knew and refused to admit to recalling, although seemed to fear regardless when he had been first told the unknown person had stated his undetermined return.

 

Brushing his thumb and forefinger against his temple, Seto tried to contemplate further possibilities before he frowned at the phone beeping for his attention, picking it up, and sighing under his breath as he put most of Yami's files away. “Yes?”

 

“I'm sorry to interrupt you, Kaiba-san, but there's a man here to see you.” The psychiatrist's secretary purred softly, still managing a professional tone by practice alone. “He doesn't have an appointment, but he says you're expecting him?”

 

Seto ignored the underlying seductiveness easily as he was used to his secretary's flirtatious motive. He would have fired anyone else long ago were this not the most competent secretary he'd ever had, and, if he was forced to admit it to at least himself, the most attractive as well. Raising a brow as he glanced at the clock, Seto nearly blinked in surprise at the time. Had he really been thinking to himself for a whole hour? “Hai, let him in, Otogi.”

 

“Ryuuji, Kaiba-san. I've told you before it's fine…”

 

Another croon of words, and Seto could nearly see his secretary's emerald eyes fluttering behind immaculate lashes even across the phone. Whether or not he was flattered by the other male's flirting wasn't clear, at least not outwardly since Seto had the uncanny ability to hide behind a constantly stoic, and often silent, mask around those who weren't his younger brother. Such a front was difficult for anyone to fully understand, much less penetrate for personal interest.

 

“I'll send him right in.” A faintly disappointed sigh accompanied Kaiba's usual lack of response. The quiet click announced the end of their conversation while the slightly put off Otogi waved the man before him toward Seto's office. Although, not without an appreciative glance or two at the male's finer qualities, which were numerous, but not quite as elegant as Seto's if Otogi had anything to say about it while he pressed a button beside his keyboard.

 

The heavy double doors swung apart just enough for the man to walk through in response, a knowing, saucy wink tossed at the raven haired secretary before the doors closed once he was within Seto's office. “I think I made him swoon. Not that I mean to steal your admirer, but are you jealous?” A wide grin carved over his lips as he walked in deeper, the man laughing at the roll of blue eyes half hidden beneath brown bangs and shadows.

 

“Hardly.”

 

“Don't lie to me, lover.” The man snickered, easing himself to sit on the corner of Seto's desk, and only because he knew it would annoy his stuffy boyfriend, pivoted so his legs dragged over the neatly kept top until his feet dangled on either side of Kaiba's chair. Scooting forward so his crotch was very much in Seto's line of sight, he hooked his feet under the seat's armrests to forcibly drag Kaiba closer, stopping only when he could lean forward and loop his arms around the brunet's neck. “I know you well enough to recognize when someone's caught your interest. And that overzealous flirt of a secretary has his eyes set on you; the fun part is that you're not fighting him off quite as hard as you had fought me…”

 

Seto didn't break their close eye contact, brow arching faintly though as he blinked and shook his head. Considering he was a taken man, and he was hardly one to cheat on those he had a relationship with, as distant and odd as this one was, he didn't quite understand why his lover was toying with this matter and decided to change their topic. “We usually meet for lunch at the restaurant. Why are you here, Mariku?”

 

The Egyptian smiled brilliantly, ignoring the question while shifting his hips forward so he slid to straddle Kaiba's lap, the added weight making the chair creak back to hold balance. Threading his fingers in the well combed hair his boyfriend maintained, Mariku purred a moment, breath rustling over the psychiatrist's lips before he flicked his tongue out to wet the paler mouth fixed in an indifferent expression. Of course, it didn't take long for the blond to change that. Parting his lips submissively, because Seto wouldn't play unless the Egyptian did it, Mariku retracted his tongue and smirked against the subtly warm mouth that enveloped his own, fingers curling in the satin soft strands of his boyfriend's hair throughout the kiss. He broke it slowly after a time, suckling on the firm muscle that had invaded his mouth until Seto withdrew too far for his tongue to be played with, a lazy and wholly satisfied smile spread across Mariku's face. Just has he had hoped, the blond had felt nothing during the kiss and this pleased him thoroughly, especially since the only time the Egyptian had felt even faintly aroused was when he allowed himself to flirt an image of Bakura in place of Seto, quickly erasing the thought before he fooled himself and carried this on without cause.

 

“Tell me, Seto, in your honest opinion; do you see this… relationship… going anywhere?”

 

The words weren't ones he had been expecting, and while he knew his boyfriend to be strange, and their relationship rather uncertain, Seto blinked at the Egyptian in what was his equivalent of stunned silence.

 

“Because even though it's been a charming half of a year…” Mariku continued, his always prominent razor-fine smile spread over his lips as he didn't find it out of place to nibble on Kaiba's chin. “I just don't see us living happily ever after.” Another tickle of lips and he stopped, resting his head against the crook of the brunet's neck while tracing idle paths up and down Seto's throat, at times twisting a lock of dark hair around his tanned fingers as he listened to the rather sudden news sink into Kaiba's mind. “Feel free to shove me off and order me to leave, lover.”

 

“I'm not upset.” Because he had been expecting it, really. At least the back of his mind had. He and the Egyptian had met abruptly several months ago at a local historic museum, and at the insistence of Mariku and his stalking skills, they met up again. Dates flourished, and at some point, Seto had grudgingly accepted they were a couple. But the violet-eyed male had always been too wired for his taste, unexpectedly disappearing for days before suddenly materializing in Seto's office, limo, or bedroom. Always for the same thing, of course, a short exchange of words, perhaps a blurb of what was occurring in their lives, and then a thoroughly extensive dance between the sheets. Or patient's folders…

 

“Good.” Again with that smile. “Before I walk out of here and make it official, you want a final go? `Cause I have been gone a whole month, and your desk looks awfully un-desecrated.” The lustful purr was followed by a suggestive rock of the Egyptian's hips, Mariku's eyes lidding to chinks of violet as he ran a dark finger down the brunet's jaw line and wisped it over Seto's lips. After all, he was still rather worked up from the earlier teasing he had bestowed on Bakura, and if there was one thing he had learned from Seto, it was to always avoid bottling things up too long.

 

It was tempting, really, but Seto was one to make clean breaks, and having a final romp with the blond really couldn't be considered healthy for any sort of relationship. Shaking his head, he firmly clasped Mariku's shoulders and pushed him back, not releasing the now pouting Egyptian until he was standing before Seto and fingering the spikes of his hair idly. Blue eyes watched as the tanned male nodded in understanding and began to walk and smooth over his worn looking shirt, one that hugged the blonde's physique at every right contour before disappearing shamelessly beneath the waistband of stormy-gray jeans. “Can I ask you, why? I have to agree I didn't see us lasting the year, but was it the trip back to Egypt? My hours here? Or…”

 

Mariku paused his approach to the door to look back at Seto and smile. It was softer this time though, and whether or not the Egyptian realized it, there was a dazed look in his eyes as he took a breath at the mere thought of his reason. Apparently he was unaware of just how well Yami and Bakura had penetrated his normally emotionless attachment to others. Then again, Kaiba had a remarkable way of easing others into expressing themselves more thoroughly than they thought possible. “Yeah.”

 

Nodding, Seto drew his seat toward the desk until he could place his elbows on it and pyramid his fingers together, chin just barely resting against his thumbs as he watched Mariku. It wasn't any of his business to know who had managed to grab the Egyptian's attention like this, and it wasn't really like he -cared-, but just by looking at the tanned figure before him, it was clear their own relationship stood little chance of having ever achieved such a level. “I'm happy for you then, Isutaru.” The use of his, now, ex's last name made the breakup official, both individuals locking gazes at that moment, checking for nonexistent regrets, and nodding from one to the other, finalizing the severance of what they had.

 

“Thanks, and hey, now that you're lunch hour's free, why don't you go nab that ditz of a secretary you have?” The blond grinned, winking as he reached the doors and rested his hand on the handle, raising a brow expectantly as Seto seemed to think the suggestion over. “Don't analyze the situation, Seto. He's hot, tall, and infatuated with you. Meaning he'll do anything you say, and we both know how well that gets you off. Right, -Master-?” Mariku curled the word around his tongue, accent sharpening the desired effect so he could see the way Kaiba's eyes wavered for a split second, suppressed shudder picked up by the Egyptian only because he knew just where to look for it. “Right. Now I'm going to leave, I have some crap in Rishid's car I need to get into my new place before my toys grow lonely. See you around, Seto, and treat your new lover well, ne? The green-eyed fool deserves to see you at least smile at him.”

 

“He's not my new-”

 

“Oi.” Before Kaiba had a chance to finish his statement, Mariku had already thrown the door open, wide grin mocking the brunet as the Egyptian left the doors parted while slowly passing the raven-haired secretary. “Seto's free for lunch, and I think he has something to ask you suddenly…” Winking suggestively at Otogi, he nodded wisely while flippantly continuing. “You boys play nice, there's still half a day of work to go after all.” Hearing Seto's low groan get drowned out by Otogi's jittery gasp was enough to make Mariku laugh as he strolled away, mind caught up in his own daydream as he watched the two impending lovers before the doors of the elevator he had stepped into shut.

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ *~

 

`I don't know what's worth fighting for
Or why I have to scream
I don't know why I instigate
And say what I don't mean
I don't know how I got this way
I know it's not alright
So I'm breaking the habit
Tonight'

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ *~

 

“Gods, Kura!” An impish grin was spread across Yami's features, the boy hanging up the phone and playfully wagging his finger at his lover. “Do you really have to go and make comments while I'm on the phone?”

 

“I like to hear you giggle.” Bakura shrugged, smirking as he sipped on the tea the younger had brewed him. “Besides, you were about to hang up with that rich bastard anywa-”

 

“Kura!” The scowl the shorter male provided hardly fazed the white haired man, but Yami tried as best he could before tossing his hands up in defeat. “You're so rude. Kaiba-sensei's trying to help me and Ryou, and yet you're always insulting him.”

 

“Posh, I'm nice to his face, aren't I? Which is what really matters, so shush.”

 

“You're impossible, you know that?”

 

“Oh, you love me regardless, which makes you just as impossible for managing to deal with me.”

 

“That makes no-”

 

Both paused their mock bickering to glance around the corner, Yami's eyes wavering a moment at the knocking while he visibly shrank away from the door despite being well away from it. Patting the boy on the shoulder in assurance, Bakura approached the door and glanced through the small hole provided to check who it was, smirking at the familiar tuff of hair he could barely spot. “Ah, looks like it's no one, I certainly don't see anything.”

 

~“Bakura, it's old. Let me in.”~

 

Blinking at the familiar voice, Yami giggled despite his older brother's annoyed tone, shaking his head at his lover while the paler man grinned and sipped on his tea, opening the door and presenting them both with an exasperated looking Yuugi. “I'm sorry, he's been like this-”

 

“Forever?” Not quite able to keep a smile off his face, the short male quickly stepped inside the apartment and playfully glowered at Bakura before turning his attention to his younger, although admittedly taller, sibling. “I swear, I don't know how you live with him, Yami.”

 

“Neither do I.”

 

Both brothers giggled and embraced, ignoring the roll of mahogany eyes they received from Bakura while the three sat themselves at the kitchen table, Bakura mostly there just to finish his tea since the babbling, almost too cheerful of a conversation was boring him to death. His mind took this opportunity to trek to different regions then, and like it or not -although it was highly probably that he did like it considering he didn't try terribly hard to stop his thoughts- Bakura found himself thinking about a particular blond. To be more specific, it was a particularly arrogant, sex-driven, bastard of a blond with a great natural tan and the sexiest violet eyes he'd ever seen. Then again, the only other violet eyes he'd ever seen belonged to Yuugi, and Bakura really didn't associate the word `sexy' with Yuugi in -any- way unless is was in stating the midget had a sexy little number for a younger brother. And Yami really was sexy when he tried it, but that part of the boy was too often in reserve for only special use. Like when either Yami was admittedly horny, or whenever Bakura put in extra effort into anything functional, usually something as simple as dusting the whole apartment rather than just his own room to earn himself the nice reward. One of these days he would make Yami go primal on his ass, Bakura just needed to figure out how to trigger such a thing. He opted on fixing the broken knob of the kitchen sink. Yes, that should earn him major sex points to cash in.

 

Bakura swerved his thoughts away from such dangerous musings, as fulfilling as they were, because one case of morning wood really was enough, plus Yuugi was there and the pale man was quite sure his lover wouldn't appreciate Bakura excusing himself to go jack off. One way or another, most likely through conscious effort, he found himself thinking back to Mariku, the pale man allowing his eyes to become unfocused as he revolved all his thoughts around his new, uninvited by his vote, `roomie'. He was ordered to give the jerk a chance, Yami having spent most of the past hour pleading with him to at least pretend to like Mariku, one of the boy's particular requests being that they had to both work hard on making the older Egyptian feel welcome. The problem with that was almost too clear for Bakura. Mariku had already made himself feel more than welcome and seemed to flourish in making Bakura look like the bad guy, Yami drawn into taking the blonde's side no matter the predicament just to ensure `their guest' didn't feel unwanted.

 

“Damn that fucker…”

 

Turning his boyfriend against him was a very powerfully bad tool! Especially since Bakura held literally no will power to go against the boy's wishes; once Yami's eyes watered up and a quivering lip was protruded, Bakura was as good as sold.

 

Still grumbling to himself, Bakura tasted the bitter end of his tea and licked away a spare drop from his lips, suddenly becoming aware that he was being stared at by both siblings rather strangely. “…Wha'?”

 

Yami pursed his lips and shook his head, the scarlet tipped ends swaying along as though chastising the pale man as well while the boy stood and took his lover's cup to wash. “I swear, Kura. You need your mouth washed. You weren't even paying attention, which was rude enough, but then you just go and blurt out such filthy-”

 

“Oh hush, YamYam. You know it gets you hot and bothered, in a good way, when I talk dirty.”

 

“Bakura!”

 

Snickering at the sound of the teacup clattering into the sink, the pale man ignored the wide blinking he was receiving from both siblings in favor of standing and grinning lividly at his flushing boyfriend. A blushing Yami always inexplicably amused and aroused Bakura, even before they had officially gotten together, and as he closed in on the embarrassed boy, who was searching for an excuse to present his older brother, the white haired male grinned only wider once he cornered his lover and pressed against him at several key places.

 

“Mm, let's see if your big brother tries to stop us this time too…”

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ *~

`Clutching my cure
I tightly lock the door
I try to catch my breath again
I hurt much more
Than anytime before
I had no options left again'

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ *~

 

It had been routine. Bakura would come to the ward to drop off Ryou for his group appointments, and then he would plop his own grumpy ass down in the same sofa he always did to wait until his younger brother was done. Not one for small talk, Bakura avoided such with a defensive scowl half shadowed by his spiky hair, one that always kept others away, at least until one day his mask was shattered long enough for him to acquaint himself with one of the residents.

 

The jittery looking boy wore what the other residents did, except the gray colored sweatpants and t-shirt seemed to drown the tanned body hidden beneath the baggy mess. Watching him cross the exclusively white room nervously, something twisted in Bakura's heart when the boy's expression bordered that of a lost kitten when he could find no place to sit. Antisocial or not, Bakura found himself momentarily soft and had snapped his fingers, pointing to the other end of the sofa after he slid his feet off of it, the genuine smile that spread across the tanned face making him smile faintly in return and swallow down the fluttery feeling in his stomach. He then figured out rather quickly that the boy had never spent time with anyone else there, not because he didn't want to, but because the others would grow bored of his silence and leave him, even if it wasn't his fault.

 

Idiot doctor, how could Kaiba not have known what Bakura discovered within fifty seconds of meeting the boy? Japanese ward or not, the nurses or assistants could have at least put in some effort too, but no, the entire staff only seemed to speak Japanese when on the job, even when most of them knew at least one other language.

 

It had started simply enough, Bakura watching the boy thread his fingers together nervously while keeping his multicolored head bowed until it drove the paler to speak. “So, what're you in here for?” The silence between them gnawed at the paler rather badly, especially since he felt himself drawn to the boy in ways he'd never quite felt before, but after watching the tanned youth wring his hands together several more times in a highly anxious motion, Bakura suddenly felt bad. “Oi, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to make it sound so ru-”

 

-“I'm sorry, I don't know what you said, I don't speak Japanese.”- The boy's voice was incredibly soft, sorrowful eyes peeking up at Bakura in regret as he knew the pale man didn't comprehend what he had said, just like all the others. He had never tried saying anything before though, mostly because he had known it would be futile, but for an unknown reason, the boy felt he owed the handsome stranger a response, even if it would lead no where.

 

“Oh… Okay, um.” Bakura scratched at the back of his head a moment, blinking at the boy slowly, and trying not to let that kicked-puppy look get to him. “Yeah, I don't know what you just said, and I'm figuring you don't know what I'm saying, so…” And he would have just shut up, really, and let their `conversation' die into silence, but Bakura couldn't tear his gaze away from the boy's face, leading him to sigh and shake his head in wonderment. ~“Damn, when did you start going soft, Akeifa?”~ The startled gasp beside him snagged his attention, the pale man nearly jerking back at the wide smile spread across the boy's face. “Are you-”

 

~“You speak English!”~ And the pure joy that radiated from the boy's lithe body could not be contained as tears rimmed his eyes at finally being able to communicate with -someone-. He had learned the language from his father, and while he spoke it without contractions, making his accent ridden statements sound even odder to other English speakers, the boy didn't care suddenly as he blinked joyously at the stranger.

 

~“Um, yeah, I moved here from England a few years ago-”~ He sounded rather stupid, but Bakura couldn't come up with anything more intelligent, especially since halfway through his statement the boy had launched himself at Bakura and ensnared him rather tightly in a hug, tanned faced buried deep in the folds of the paler's shirt, causing a rather funny feeling to flutter in his body. ~“Hey? Are you okay?”~ The tingling feeling in his stomach had to be ignored though as he heard distinct sniffling coming from the boy, Bakura carefully tipping the other's chin up, and feeling crushed at the tear ridden face. ~“Hey. Shh, don't cry.”~

 

~“I am sorry, it is just… I have been here a whole month, and I have been unable to speak to anyone.”~ Puffy eyes were rubbed at, tears wiped away as the boy pressed against the stranger, curling up until he fit rather nicely in Bakura's lap, red eyes shutting to the rest of the world as he finally felt safe. ~“…My name is Yami.”~

 

And it struck him as odd that the boy should have a Japanese word as a name without knowing the language, but Bakura didn't think much into the matter as he lightly wrapped his arms around the small figure and smiled. ~“…Nice to meet you, Yami. My name's Bakura.”~

 

Months passed, and within that time span the boy was assigned nurses that were familiar with English, Seto even putting in the effort to learn enough of the choppy language so he could better suit Yami's needs. The barrier didn't last long though as Bakura found it in himself to visit the boy much more often than he needed to, not just to keep the secluded youth company, but to voluntarily teach him Japanese. Being intelligent and more than eager, not to mention having a mind bogglingly cute instructor that seemed to make learning all the easier, the boy grasped onto the rhythmic language at a decent pace. While he had his difficulties pronouncing some of the words around his accent, Yami practiced even while the pale man was away, enjoying the encouragement and praise the white haired male would shower upon him each step.

 

“So anyway, that's why I don't like the dumbass. My brother, and sister, deserve someone with more brain cells.” Bakura had been talking for a good hour now on this particular visitation, grinning at the disapproving, though slightly amused, shake of a head he earned from the boy resting on top of him on the sofa. It was their sofa, always the same spot with the same comfortable position shared between them, well, at least since a particular incident that involved a certain boy tripping and landing chest to chest on the man lying on the sofa, an embarrassed agreement between the two then stating that the closeness was rather nice.

 

Rather nice indeed as neither of them seemed to mind the position even when one or the other squirmed, as Yami was currently doing in trying to snuggle closer to the man beneath him, it was rather chilly after all, and he wholly refused to bundle up… perhaps on purpose. “He's really nice though, Kura.” He giggled to the pursed lips Bakura presented, the nickname had yet to settle thoroughly with the man, but that really didn't stop him from utilizing it. “I'd like a boyfriend as nice as him, though, with lighter, longer hair. Darker eyes, and a little older... and…”

 

Bakura raised a brow to the blush, feeling the warmth on the boy's cheeks go through his shirt as Yami rested his head on the paler's chest. “And?” The youth lying on him made a small noise, something between an embarrassed acknowledgement and disregard, Bakura smirking either way as he pulled his arms away from pillowing his head to wrap around the boy's waist, the heat on his chest flaring up slightly even if he couldn't see Yami blush further. “Well, I'd like a boyfriend too, though someone cute with multicolored hair, maybe even foreign… You know, because accents are such a turn on.” Keeping his eyes on the boy's head, Bakura's smirk curled deeper when Yami managed to peek up between blond bangs and lashes, the scarlet eyes humming with interest suddenly. “And young, because I'm a pervert and enjoy cradle snatching.”

 

“R-really?” Yami tried to sound as detached to the revelation as possible, small gulp not going unnoticed though as he raised himself enough to fold his arms on the taller's chest, chin balanced on them as he peered into the mahogany eyes staring at him. “I may… know someone, who, you know, fits that description.”

 

Grin of approval cemented on his lips, the white haired male drummed his fingers along the base of Yami's back, making the youth squirm some more until he hiked up Bakura's chest a few inches, the man's voice rolling in a tease as he lifted his head to look at the boy more closely, each of them wholly aware of just how much closer they were to each other now as their breaths mingled. “Oh? And would this, someone, be interested in being my boyfriend?”

 

Oh Gods. Just the way he said it made Yami mentally swoon, the boy curling his trembling fingers into the shirt the paler was wearing as his palms became slightly moist. “…H-hai…”

 

“Really? Well, since you do seem to know him quite well, do you think he'd mind me kissing him in public? Just my way of making it official that we're together is all.”

 

“…He… he wouldn't m-mind…”

 

“Good.”

 

For a moment the room seemed to fall silent and spin around them, both males slipping their eyes shut while their necks arched and stretched as they tried to reach each other. Bakura cupped the back of the boy's head gently; black and scarlet wisps of hair slipping through his pallid fingers as he guided Yami, and for a second, both of them felt their stomachs churn and tingle pleasantly in anticipation, breaths pausing as lips just barely brushed against each other.

 

~“Excuse me. Could you -not- molest my little brother in front of me?”~

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ *~

`I don't want to be the one
The battles always choose
'Cause inside I realize
That I'm the one confused'

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ *~

 

“Hey, it's not like I meant to walk in on tha- Oh my God, ew! Stop touching my baby brother in front of me!” Yuugi huffed, crossing his arms and then shaking his head to the finger Bakura decided to flick his way while still clearly groping the by now breathless Yami. “Very mature, Bakura. No, really.” Shutting his eyes to this routine, he thought back to the memory still fresh in his head, the short male smirking lightly to the shocked expressions he had received from both of the lovers when he announced his presence. It was the only time Bakura had appeared rather frightened of Yuugi, quite possibly since it was the first time the three were meeting, and the diminutive brother had looked more than upset at having his dream meeting of a brother he hadn't even know of up until the week before, to be ruined by some hyper-sexual guy who couldn't keep his hands off the younger sibling. And in public!

 

Clenching his eyes tightly to a soft moan that echoed quite well with the help of the kitchen's tiled walls, Yuugi growled under his breath while pointing in the general direction of the commotion, slipping into English, which he knew thanks to his Grandfather, to sound harsher. ~“Bakura Akeifa, I swear to God, if you don't stop manhandling my brother this instance-”~ He found himself cut off by his own squeak of surprise when a pair of hands settled on his shoulders, Yuugi blinking widely and looking up only to squeak again at the -very nice looking- stranger peering down at him in amusement.

 

-“Darling, you didn't tell me your brother looked just like you! Well, except for the lack of tan… and height… Say, is he foreign?”-

 

~“Oh my God, who is this, Yami?”~

 

“Fuck, you're back already?”

 

“Bakura! Honestly, watch your language. And this is our new roommate, Yuugi, his name's Mariku.” Yami smiled, breaking away from his rather compromising position with his lover to join the other Egyptian's side, blinking up nearly adoringly before motioning his brother to stand. “Mariku, this is my older brother, Yuugi, and no, he was born on the other side of Domino, but he lived in America for a while.” Watching his elder sibling shake hands and exchange greetings with Mariku made the boy grin happily, Yami quite glad this was going so nicely, well, except for Bakura scowling at the other corner of the kitchen, but he could deal with that.

 

~“He's hot… Like… Really, really hot, Yami. Seriously, where did you find him?”~ Yuugi spoke with a grin, ignoring the growl coming from Bakura as he paid more attention to the new member of the apartment excuse himself to go bring in boxes he'd left in the hall, the short male not hiding the fact he was clearly checking out the blond Egyptian's ass. ~“Ooh, I wanna be those jeans…”~

 

“Bakura found him.” He left it at that, mostly since he didn't wish to agree to the blonde's blatant good looks with Bakura being there, though a small spark of jealousy flickered in Yami's eyes at his brother's wandering gaze. Mariku was -his- new roomie! Oh sure, he had Bakura, but… but… Ngh! Yami took a breath and tugged on his own bangs for a second in confusion. He loved Bakura, there wasn't a doubt in his mind about that, but ever since meeting Mariku, Yami couldn't help having his heart flutter just like it did when he had first met Bakura. And that was wrong, wasn't it? To share his feelings between two? So that was why he didn't let it out, keeping his silly feelings to himself and hoping they'd pass for nothing more than a crush. Although, watching Mariku reenter and smile at him made him blush lightly, casting doubt on Yami's hope that the adoration would disappear, but then again, there was still a chance this wasn't such a terrible thing. Maybe it wasn't wrong to love more than one person so long as it was shared equally, and while he wasn't absolutely sure this was love, Yami couldn't ask his heart for a straight answer now could he? Yami knew of a similar predicament with Bakura's brother, and while it was certainly not the same situation, there was at least one person in that wonky relationship he could consult. Yes, that sounded like a fine idea.

 

“YamYam, where are you going?” Bakura had been watching his lover rather intensely, noting the way the boy's eyes sharpened at Yuugi's comments and the blushes he'd suffer from whenever Mariku would cast a smile or wink at the youth. While he felt a natural degree of jealously, the pale man also found it oddly comforting to know that he wasn't the only one suffering from the blonde's manipulative gestures, as innocent as they were cast upon Yami, thankfully.

 

“Oh, well since Yuugi's staying for dinner, I'm just going to invite your brother and sister too.” The reply was sweet enough, but Yami giggled lightly at the groan that echoed out of the kitchen in turn, the boy already in his bedroom and cradling the phone against one ear before his boyfriend could complain too much. “Hush, Kura. They should meet Mariku too, the sooner the better, so just- Hi, Amane! Yes, fine, and you?... Good! I was wondering if you guys could come over for dinner tonight?... Yeah?... Oh sure, I insist you bring him too!”

 

Dragging his hand over his face in exasperation, because he knew that `him' stood for that nerve wracking idiot his siblings loved, Bakura slumped against the kitchen counter in defeat, with his luck his mother would pop up too and scrutinize him, quite possibly making him involuntarily spill his guilty harboring of a personal love triangle. If that happened, he didn't even want to consider how Yami would take it; much less the triumphant look Mariku would give him. Thank the Gods his father was away on business at the moment, he couldn't take it if he was there too, especially since the head of the Bakura family still found it difficult to accept his sons were gay. Though the ol' man tried, he still didn't quite get that being gay didn't automatically make his sons cross dressers, especially since not even Amane liked feminine clothing.

 

~“You know what's really great about him living here?”~ Yuugi's voice broke the pale man from his brooding, Bakura rolling his eyes at the dreamy look on the short male's face when the blond Egyptian walked by with the final box. Though the paler had to agree that with Mariku's muscles flexed and small bead of sweat caught on his brow… well… Bakura could think of other scenarios when the Egyptian would look just like that, and it made him squirm and face the counter to hide the evidence. ~“I don't have to ask for his number, I already know it!”~ Grinning overly pleased at such a fact, Yuugi allowed a flowery sigh to escape him while he stood and followed the tanned blond down the hall, “I'll help you unpack, Mariku!” Yuugi chirped along the way, seemingly ignoring the two sets of jealous glares directed at him for trailing after their secretly prized new roommate.

 

Dinner suddenly didn't seem like such a safe idea.

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ *~

 

`I'll paint it on the walls
'Cause I'm the one at fault
I'll never fight again
And this is how it ends'

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ *~